


Affliction

by uglyinternet



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Burning, Dirty Talk, Dom!Michael, Dominance, F/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sadism, Submissive, Wax, Wax Play, hot wax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglyinternet/pseuds/uglyinternet
Summary: She was meant for him to torture, to cause pain, and he loves it.
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Original Female Character(s), Michael Langdon/Reader
Kudos: 25





	Affliction

**Author's Note:**

> this was day two of kinktober (decades ago): wax play. 
> 
> this was my first time writing something such as this so it’s not...the best, but hopefully it works for y’all!!

She had never viewed pain as pleasure. She had never imagined, or thought, something that stings your body and causes it pain could be remotely turned into something sexual, let alone pleasurable by any means. She wasn’t inexperienced when it came to sex. But she would not label herself as completely experimental either. 

That’s why when Langdon came into the picture, quickly claiming the girl as his own, him showing her that pain could in fact be pleasurable. Since being at the outpost her sexual game when it came to experimenting things had gone up, no thanks to Michael. Some of the things that he would whisper into her ear about ravaging her body, taking her in front of everyone, putting his hands around her throat, running a cool blade down her body, turning her ass a bright red that wouldn’t allow her to sit normally for weeks. He had shown her all of those things. Opened her mind to a world where pleasure and pain go hand in hand in the best kind of way. 

It seemed each night she had felt a new pain, a new pleasure that had her eyes fluttering shut, her head bent, mouth open in ecstasy. 

And tonight was no different. 

“You can ask me to stop at any point, love.” Michael smirks, holding her jaw between his forefinger and thumb. “Remember that.” She nods, her breathing has already become rigid and they have barely started. “If the pain becomes too much. Don’t hesitate.” He emphasizes his words, knowing full well that she had a tendency to push her limits. Something he loved, her resilience, her want to not stop the pleasure by any means, to keep feeling the sting of his hand on her ass, or the pressure on her neck from him choking her to a point where all she see’s is white. He loved turning her relationship with pain into nothing but pleasure. A pleasure that she would feel days after it happened. A pleasure she kept coming back to, kept coming back to him to give it to her. He wouldn’t deny he loved hearing her whines of pain and pleasure mixed. Loved to see her body red and raw, her gasping breaths. 

And he knew tonight would be no different. With the way she is naked and spread across the velvet sheets of his bed. Her leaning up on her elbows in anticipation, her cunt already wet from the idea, the anxiousness, of what was about to happen. He could smell her cunt from her. Her arousal filling his nostrils like the sweetest scent he has ever smelt before. She was more than ready. More than willing for him to bring any pain to her delicate body. She was so good for him. 

He leans down, gives her a soft kiss to her lips, gives her a weak smirk before he’s getting up from the edge of the bed and walking over to his desk where tonight’s treat stands burning in the background. Illuminating the room. He picks one of the white candles up, blows out it’s flame, watches as the wick still sparks with embers before fully going out. He slips his finger in the groove of the candle, gathering some hot wax on his finger. He smirks, she hadn’t fully felt this kind of pain before. She’s felt the pain of his knife on her skin, his own hands, but nothing quite like this. Something that could, and will, burn her skin. The thought of the sheer pain that was coming her way, that would make her a whimpering and begging mess for him to just fuck her, made his cock twitch. 

She watches as he rubs the gathered wax between his fingers. Her fingers already fisting the sheets in anticipation. Every nerve ending on her body sparked, on edge, ready to go, ready to feel the pain, the burn, the pleasure. She could already feel the slick on her upper thighs. She was so ready. Any fear of pain long gone. A distant thought to the person she used to be. She was a new person now. Someone Michael had helped shape. His equal. Any thoughts of the past were far from her mind. 

Her breath hitches as she watches him walk over to the bed, slowly, languid, his eyes never leaving hers, the candle in one hand, her body tense. Waiting. Ready. 

“Remember what I said.” Michael says again. Wants to make sure she truly understands. He drew the line when it came to completely harming her. A line she rarely drew. She nods, her eyes flashing between him and the candle. He can see the tension in her body. The anxiousness in the way her knuckles go white from gripping his bed sheets. “Tell me.” He orders. 

She sighs softly. Swallows. Calms her breathing as she tries to remember his exact words. “I can ask you to stop,” she repeats his words, “if the pain becomes too much.” She looks up at him with dow eyes, a small smile on her face. “I promise, Michael.” He gives her a satisfied smirk, a low hum coming from the back of his throat as he sits himself back down on the edge of the bed. 

He places his hand at the base of her throat, his cool rings burning her, her skin already so sensitive. His fingertips run down her collar bones, the canyon between her breasts. “Where should we start,” it’s not a question for her to answer, he’s speaking to himself, he’s staring down at her body, his eyes following the movement of his finger tips; down her stomach, past her belly button, to the top of her mound, skating lightly over her wet lips that has her jerking forward in the neediest way, making him smirk. “We’ll save that area for last.” He says sensually. Runs his fingers back up her body. “Where would you like it first, my love?” 

“Anywhere,” she whines, whimpers softly. “Please, anywhere.” 

“So needy for it. For pain.” He praises her in a teasing way. He raises the candle above her skin, making a show to move and hover it above her body, her eyes never leaving the white object. The object that was soon to cause her pain. Her back arching in anticipation, waiting, needing to feel it. To receive this pain from Michael. By his hands. 

Michael stops over the top of her stomach, looks down at her, the way her body is gravitating towards the candle, waiting, the way her mouth is already hung open, her eyes pleading for him to just do it. And so he does, tipping the white candle and let’s the first droplets of wax fall onto the skin of her abdomen. 

She twitches. Hisses. Her back arching up from the bed, her head tipping back, eyes clenched, mouth hung open as a cry of pain slowly turns into a whiney moan. The burn she feels, the pain, running throughout her entire body, as if he had set her aflame. Every nerve ending burning along with the spot the wax gathers at, hardens. 

“How did that feel?” Michael asks, watches as she brings her head back up, opens her eyes, looks at him, her eyes are glossy with lust. She breath heaving in her chest. All she can do is nod, give him a pitiful look of need. His eyes never leave hers as he lets the second droplet fall onto the space between her breasts. This time eliciting a loud moan from her mouth. Her eyes fluttering shut, her thighs clenched together. Knuckles going white. 

Michael watches as the wax hardens on her skin, watches as the skin becomes red, irritated. He wants to peel the wax off of her body, really get a look at the red, raw, burning marks that he is leaving on her body. Wants to run his tongue along the sensitive skin. Make it burn for even longer. Give her even more pleasure in the most delicious way. 

He can already feel his cock growing hard in his pants. And after the third and forth drop, after watching her body contort and shake in pain, the loud filthy begging moans that fall from her lips making his grip on the candle go white. She’s so beautiful like this. In pain. Receiving pain from him. Getting pleasure out of it. 

“Do you want more, my love?” Michael leans down, presses a kiss to the side of her neck. 

Her voice his hoarse, “yes, more,” she moans.

Michael smirks and lowers the the candle a bit, knowing the lower he goes, the worse the burn. This time when he tilts the candle and lets the wax fall from it, it lands on the top of her breast, running down so deliciously slow, running along her nipple. Michael’s jaw clenches. Mouth runs dry. Wanting to lick the wax up with his tongue just to taste her hot, burnt breast. To relive the sound that erupts low in the back of her throat at the feel of the hot wax touching her sensitive nipple. 

She doesn’t know if she’s felt pain like this before. It’s not all of the other times Michael has pleasured her. It’s more intense. It burns her entire body. It makes her knuckles ache from gripping the sheets so hard. Her throat is raw from the loud moans and whines coming from it. Her cunt aching, begging, for a touch. 

There’s tears brimming in her eyes, tears of pain, of pleasure. They don’t drop down her cheek until she feels Michael’s fingers reach out, run over the hardens wax on the top of her breasts, picks at it until the raw skin is revealed. A low groan stopping at the back of his throat, as he runs his index finger over the warm, hot, burnt skin. And that’s when the tears fall. When she pushes her chest up into his hand more. When the throat burns from the moan, from the sting of pain, of pleasure. 

Michael doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful thing than this. How perfectly red and raw her skin looks. How it makes her delicate skin look even more soft, sexy. How he wants to see her like this always. Red for him. From him. Burning for him. And when he looks to her face, see’s the tears that gather at her cheeks, he smirks. His cock twitches. She’s in so much pain. He wipes the tears away with his thumb. 

“Your body was meant for this, my love. To be hurt. To be tortured. To be red and raw. To be burned.” He leans close to her face, his lips inches from hers. “You were meant for me.” He smirks when she moans at that. He presses a rough kiss to her lips, doesn’t warn as he lets another droplet fall onto her lower abdomen. Then another. And another. By the third one she’s pulling from his lips, crying out, moaning his name. Praising him. 

“I need..” she starts, can’t finish, her voice so hoarse, so beautiful. She whines. Whimpers. Shakes. 

“What do you need,” Michael grips his fingers in the back of her hair, pulls her face so their foreheads are touching. “More?” She doesn’t say anything, her mouth hung open, trying to catch her breath. “To be fucked?” 

His last words having her moaning, shying away from his hold to look up at him and beg. “Please,” she whines. 

Michael can’t help but groan at the need she is showing right now. The need to feel his cock inside of her, to fuck her, all because he brought pain onto her body. He pulls her hair once again, smashing their lips together. “Such a good girl for me. So fucking good.” 

Is the last thing he says before he’s setting the candle down, standing from the bed, and stripping his clothes off. Climbing back onto the bed, taking a minute to admire her body. The red. The pain he knows she still feels from every drop onto her soft skin. And if he thought she was beautiful before, she’s breathtaking now. She’s a mess. A beautiful shade of red. 

She was meant for him to torture, to cause pain, and he loves it.


End file.
